


Kiss Cam

by hipsbrokenhearts



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: A leafs team made up of my favorite leafs, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Career Ending Injuries, Former Hockey Player Mitch, M/M, McDavid is a good bro, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews - Freeform, NOT a love triangle, Podcaster Auston, Rewriting hockey history, background McDavid/Draisaitl, fictional 2019-2020 season, leafs/bruins rivalry, past trauma, the only timeline where McDavid gets the leafs 97
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hipsbrokenhearts/pseuds/hipsbrokenhearts
Summary: Mitch is a former hockey player turned professional hockey fan/writer/streamer. Auston is one half of a moderately successful podcast, an actual sports reporter, and a hilarious follow on sports twitter. When Mitch lets it slip he has a crush on a certain podcaster while wine drunk on twitch, he learns all too quickly that what’s said on the internet doesn’t ever just stay on the internet.
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Comments: 24
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Extended Summary:
> 
> Mitch Marner had once been destined to be the next Great One, or, at least, that’s what everyone had always told him. He’d even once believed it himself, when he was lighting up the OHL with his fellow London Knights and breaking every record he set his sights on. As the obvious favorite to go for first in the 2015 Draft, Mitch was ecstatic with the prospect of playing for his hometown team, the Toronto Maple Leafs. On the cusp of getting everything he’d ever dreamed of, Mitch felt like all his hard work had finally paid off. But, all too soon Mitch learned that destiny, fate, or some god out there had other plans in store for him. 
> 
> As Leafs fans had been contemplating buying Marner jerseys in giddy anticipation for the future of their franchise, the unthinkable happened. Mitch sustained a career ending injury that left him unable to skate ever again. Forced into an early retirement, Mitch watched in envy as everything he’d ever worked for was awarded to his best friend and former teammate, Connor McDavid. As Mitch watched McDavid shake hands with coaches and GMs and slip on a Leafs’ jersey, Mitch swore to himself he was done with hockey, and Connor, for good. 
> 
> Now, five years later, Mitch has a new lease on life. He’s an up and coming beat writer for the team Mitch was once destined to play for after landing an exclusive interview with their star forward (and his ex best friend). Done with the resentment and jealousy he once felt toward Connor for taking the future Mitch had once thought was rightly his, he embraces their renewed friendship and accepts Connor’s help with breaking into the Leafs’ media scene. 
> 
> So, really, it’s all Connor’s fault what happens next.

_“Let’s talk about what’s really important,” Freddie said._

_“Oh, god, Fred, what are you referring to this time?” Auston asked with a nervous laugh._

_“Hold on just a sec, let me pull it up,” Freddie said, and there was rustiling before he started up again. “Okay, here we go. I’m on your twitter, so maybe that will jog your memory.”_

_“I don’t know, man. I tweet a bunch of shit, you’ll have to be more specific,” Auston answered._

_“That’s for sure,” Freddie said, chuckling before getting back to the matter at hand. “But, specifically, I’m referring to this ridiculous tweet you tweeted out yesterday which reads, and I quote, ‘Spring Style: Which slides are we repping in 2020?’ with the worst collection of shoes I’ve ever seen pictured below.”_

_Uncontrollable laughter sprang out of Auston as he tried to defend himself. “First, you don’t have style so you can’t say shit. Second, that’s a serious poll! And I’m gonna take the time right now to urge our listeners to take a look at that tweet and let me know what you think. Hold up, I’m pinning the tweet right now, so no need to hunt for it.”_

_“Please, don’t give him any more attention,” Freddie begged. “He doesn’t need the satisfaction. Auston is proof that money can’t always buy you style.”_

_“Hey!” Auston protested._

_“Like, what are these? These look like cotton candy house shoes all pink, blue, and white. Tell me you wouldn’t seriously wear those out?”_

_“I would and I have! Those are UGGS! They’re comfortable!”_

_“We need to have an intervention, I—”_

Mitch shot up with a yelp when he felt a hand wrap around his ankle. He ripped off his beats and chunked them at the intruder who was currently sitting on the couch with him. 

“Ow! Mitch, seriously? What the hell!” The intruder said in a voice that sounded eerily familiar. 

Cracking his eyes open, Mitch saw a familiar blur of red hair and toned muscle. 

Connor.

“Fuck, Con! You scared the shit out of me!” Mitch said. 

“You invited me over!” Connor said, defending himself.

“Yes, but I thought you’d _knock_. Not grab my ankles while I’m blissfully chillin’ on the couch like a _serial killer._ ” 

“I _did_ knock, but _you_ didn’t answer. So, I used the key you gave me,” Connor said with a huff, giving Mitch back his beats. 

Oh. 

His beats _were_ noise cancelling. 

“Sorry about that,” Mitch said, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did I hurt you?” Mitch gestured to his beats. 

“No,” Connor smirked. “Nice try though.”

Mitch playfully rolled his eyes. “Remind me to never show genuine concern for your well being again. My apologies for worrying about if I injured Toronto’s precious _McJesus._ ”

Mitch pressed his palms against his closed eyes, trying to clear his vision. A second later, a throw pillow smacked Mitch in the face.

“Hey!” Mitch protested. With his renewed sight, he glared at Connor, who was snuggling into the other end of the couch. 

“We’re even now,” Connor said, a smile tugging at his lips as he shrugged a shoulder. 

Mitch shook his head. “Did you at least bring dinner?” 

Connor motioned to the pizza box and salad resting on Mitch’s coffee table without a word. 

Mitch felt the need to roll his eyes again, but held back. Besides, the man had brought pizza. 

Mitch _loved_ pizza. 

With a slice in his hand, Mitch asked, “How was the road trip?”

Connor stabbed at his meal plan approved over the top healthy salad before he changed the subject entirely. 

“What were you listening to? I would have thought you were dead asleep since your eyes were closed but for the laughter I heard when I was waiting for you in the hallway. Listening to that podcast again?” 

Connor did that a lot. Changed the subject when hockey came up. Ever since they’d started talking again, Connor never talked about hockey with Mitch. Well, besides the interview. That was the one exception.

Mitch appreciated that Connor was trying to be considerate of his feelings, really, he did, but now that Mitch had dove head first back into the hockey world after five years of self decided exile he needed updates from Connor. Inside information to give him an edge. 

And, you know, he wanted to hear about Connor’s life. 

Mitch let it slide though, and answered Connor’s question. 

“What?” Connor asked. “Stop talking with your mouth full, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” 

Mitch made an obnoxious show of chewing the rest of his bite before swallowing loudly. Connor rolled his eyes, but waved at Mitch to go on.

“ _I said_ yeah. The new episode of Boston Bros.” 

“God. Do you hear how douche-y that sounds Mitch? Why do you listen to that shit? You don’t even follow Boston sports,” Connor said, still stabbing away at his salad.

Mitch made sure to swallow the rest of his slice before replying. “It’s hardly even about Boston sports, I’ve told you this before. It’s more about their personal lives and what’s happening in pop culture. It’s very random actually.” 

“Oh, now I remember. It’s the hot guy podcast,” Connor’s eyes gleamed as he sat up straighter and set aside his empty salad container. Of course Connor remembered _that_ part of it. Connor loved making Mitch blush, and the easiest way to do that was to get Mitch talking about a crush. 

And really, Mitch didn’t mind talking about it. He was in love and he didn’t care if his best friend knew it. 

“He’s the love of my life, Con,” Mitch said. Even to his own ears he sounded dramatic but Mitch didn’t care, he was a dramatic guy. 

“Have you proposed yet?” Connor asked, containing his laughter behind a closed lip smile.

“No,” Mitch pouted. 

“Have you DMed him at least?” Connor asked. 

Mitch huffed. “You know I can’t do that!” 

Connor rolled his eyes. “How are you going to get married if you won’t even introduce yourself?” 

“He’s just supposed to notice me!” Mitch told him. They’d had this conversation more than once before.

Connor laughed. “Okay, but you’ve tried that already and it hasn’t been working. How about plan B? DM him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could leave me on read!” Mitch exclaimed. 

“Well, at least you’d know then,” Connor said, like that was an answer he’d want to hear. 

“I wouldn’t be able to live with the shame of it all,” Mitch said in despair, throwing an arm over his face in dismay. 

“You know it’s possible he’ll respond, right? Like, it might not be the worst outcome but the best?” 

“Yeah,” Mitch grumbled, looking at Connor from under his arm.

“So you’ll DM Auston?” 

“Yeah,” Mitch agreed, sitting up so he could grab another slice. 

“As soon as you text Leon,” Mitch promised, letting a wicked smirk wrap around his lips. The odds of Connor texting Leon were the same odds of Mitch skating again. Nonexistent. Still, if Connor actually did text him, Mitch thought DMing Auston would be fair compensation. 

“Mitch,” Connor said flatly, trying to end the conversation before it began. 

Connor had already grown the shade of a Red Wing’s home sweater though. There was no way Mitch was dropping it. Mitch liked to make Connor blush just as much. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Mitch asked, flinging Connor’s words right back at him. 

“This is different and you know it,” Connor said sternly. 

“No, it’s not. Just text him! I know he’s into you. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How he looks at me?” Connor repeated flabbergasted. “He’s only ever looking at me across a face off dot, so unless you’ve been reffing and I haven’t noticed, I don’t see how that’s true. I just, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Mitch made a show of rolling his eyes dramatically. He’d seen the way they looked at each other during warm ups and in between breakages in play. They were like magnets, drawn to each other. It didn’t matter that they weren’t on the same team. 

“That’s not true, Con, and you know it. Text him!”

“And say what? ‘Hi’?” Connor suggested in a tone that was part hopeful and part clueless. 

“Dude, no,” Mitch shook his head. “Please don’t do that.”

“Well?” Connor asked, his annoyance almost able to hide the hit of embarrassment only Mitch would have been able to pick up on. 

“Say something like, ‘It was great getting to know you better at the All Star Game a few weeks ago, want to catch up when I’m in town next week? Also, I think you’re sexy as fuck, would love to be fucked, and if I was able I’d have your babies.” 

“MITCH!” Connor said, scandalized. Another pillow smacked Mitch in the face.

“Okay, okay,” Mitch laughed. “How about just the first part. That’s not too bad.” 

“Yeah,” Connor begrudgingly agreed. “What if I say that and we aren’t in town next week though?” 

Mitch rolled his eyes again. Connor was hopeless. It was both hilarious and perplexing how Connor could work out hockey plays in his sleep but couldn’t navigate a relationship with an actual human person if his life depended on it. 

“Well, first you’d check your schedule,” Mitch said, waving around his phone with the NHL app pulled up. “Lucky for you I already have and you are in Edmonton next week.”

“Okay,” Connor breathed after an extended pause.

“Okay like…? Like you’ll actually text him?” Mitch asked, excitedly. Mitch was shocked, frankly. He didn’t think that he’d ever see this day come. Mitch'd been going on about how Connor needed to do something about his feelings nonstop since Connor had gotten back from the All Star Game and couldn’t shut up about the kind German super star in Edmonton, but Mitch never thought Connor actually would. 

Connor gave Mitch the tiniest nod and Mitch shot off the couch in celebration. After a short dance and a lot of cheering, Mitch asked, “Do you want me to type it out for you?”

It wouldn’t be the first time Mitch had to text a guy for Connor. The dude just got so nervous about it he’d stare at his phone for hours before backspacing it all and shoving his phone away without sending a word. Mitch thought Connor deserved more than that, and that Leon probably did too. 

Connor nodded, blush now in full force, and handed his phone over to Mitch wordlessly. Mitch typed out the message, but got Connor’s final approval before sending it. When Connor nodded again, Mitch sent it.

“Sent!” Mitch announced. He kind of wanted to scream it from the rooftops, but he didn’t think Connor would like Mitch indulging in this massive invasion of his privacy. 

“So?” Connor asked, blush rescinding as he raised a brow in challenge. 

Fuck.

Behind his collar, Mitch was sweating. Fuck him. He didn’t think that Connor would actually pull the trigger. Now he actually had to follow through as well. 

Mitch shook his head. “I’ll do it tomorrow, Con. I can’t ask two guys out in one night. That’s too slutty, even for me,” Mitch joked, winking at Connor. “Besides, I need to listen to the rest of the pod so I can get some good material to talk about when I DM him.”

“Fine,” Connor begrudgingly agreed. “But you have until the end of the week.”

“Or what?” Mitch challenged. He doubted Connor would do anything if Mitch decided to chicken out. Connor was all for respecting people's limits. Mitch knew that from personal experience, from when he’d ended their friendship so many years ago. Mitch had texted him, fuming after watching Connor take what Mitch had thought of as his draft spot, that he thought it best they weren’t friends anymore. For Mitch’s sake. It’d be too hard, he’d told him, and Connor had respected that. He’d agreed and never reached out. It had been such a selfish act on Mitch’s part, cutting Connor out like that, and it was something he’d grown to regret, but in the end it had shown Mitch one of Connor’s true strengths. Which is why he was so surprised by Connor’s answer. 

“I’ll DM him for you,” Connor said, simply. 

“You wouldn’t!” Mitch said, aghast. 

“I would. I’d DM him that I’d love to be a guest on his podcast and then, when they’re interviewing me, I’d mention that one of my best friends has a massive crush on one of the hosts. I’d bring pictures and I’d tell them I was on there only to set you up.” 

“I-–I...I’ve corrupted you,” Mitch shook his head, laughing. “You say that, but you wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh yeah?” Connor said, picking his phone up from off the coffee table. “Just watch.”

“No! No!” Mitch leaped for Connor’s phone and swiped it easily. “I’ll do it later, I swear.”

The only thing worse than Auston leaving him on read would be Connor going on the pod and Auston saying that he wasn’t interested in Mitch live on air. Mitch would never recover from something like that. 

“Okay, I won’t.” Connor laughed. “But you’ve got ‘til the end of the week,” Connor added, sternly. 

***

Feeling sorry for himself and a little more than tipsy, Mitch found himself on twitch. 

Connor had left shortly after threatening to blow up Mitch’s love life, citing that he had to be up early for practice tomorrow morning. It was the kind of thing Mitch could usually brush off, but tonight, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he had no reason to go to bed early at all. No morning practice, no tape to watch, no bonding with the team. Nothing at all. Longing, a deep deep longing that was rooted in Mitch’s chest, yearned for everything he was once destined to have. What Connor _did_ have. 

It was everything Mitch was so desperate to forget. And, at this point, he’d gotten pretty good at it. He’d spent the last five years pretending that hockey didn’t exist, that his past didn’t exist, and he had finally moved on. He was happy now. Which is why he’d felt in control enough to reenter the world he had once loved so much. He just hadn’t realized it would be this hard. 

Though Mitch thought it would be better to forget it all, sometimes he let himself remember and wallow for everything he’d lost. He’d lost the life he’d always wanted and was just now starting to build one he could live with. That wasn’t easy and it took a toll, even if no one was around to see it. 

Torn between self pity and self hatred, Mitch made his way to the kitchen to get what he needed so he wouldn’t feel a damn thing. He swiped the first bottle of wine he saw sitting on the counter and made his way half way through his living room before turning back for the bottle opener and another bottle of wine. Just in case. 

So, he’d popped open a bottle, turned on NHL ‘19, tweeted out his stream link, and started streaming. Two hours later, Mitch was pleasantly drunk and feeling a whole lot better about his situation. 

He was playing as the Leafs, because Mitch apparently really did hate himself, and was actually doing pretty well for a change. Mitch was shit at all video games —which was why it was kind of mystifying that anyone bothered to turn into his streams— but he knew most of his viewers just liked hanging out with Mitch regardless of his performance. He’d been told he was a good conversationalist, whatever that means, but Mitch thought it was also something else. Mitch thought part of it, well, that a lot of it boiled down to that whole car wreck idea. That people couldn’t look away, even though it was horrible. Mitch’s life was the car wreck, and people just couldn’t look away. They wanted to see how a car survived after years of sitting in a junkyard he guessed. How a hockey player could live a life deprived of the game.

Mitch didn’t mind. 

Streaming was one of the only things that made him happy anymore. 

So, as Mitch missed an obvious shot on net and booed his own poor performance, he asked if anyone watching wanted to do a little Q and A tonight. It was something Mitch did a lot, because Mitch liked to run his mouth. That was probably his favorite part of streaming, just getting to talk nonstop, like how he used to in the locker room. 

Mitch glanced at the comments before reading one of the questions out loud. “What’s it like knowing Connor McDavid?” 

Mitch laughed. He got this question _all_ the time. 

“Hmmm…” Mitch hummed, taking a swig from the bottle while contemplating his answer. What _was_ it like knowing Connor? In another parallel universe out there somewhere, in a timeline where Mitch didn’t get injured, he wondered if Connor was being asked how it was knowing Mitch Marner. 

What’s it like knowing Connor McDavid? Mitch really let himself think about it for the first time. And. Well. It was a lot of things. Humiliating, exhausting, but also deeply rewarding. Connor had always been a good friend to Mitch, even when Mitch didn’t deserve it, but that didn’t mean Mitch loved living in his shadow. But, Mitch was past that now, or so he told himself. 

Realizing Mitch still hadn’t answered the question aloud, he laughed again. 

“Sorry, got lost in it for a second.” Mitch shook his head before holding up the wine bottle and taking another sip. 

“What’s it like knowing Connor?” Mitch tapped on his chin. “Well…”

“Oh, man. It’s a fucking drag,” Mitch said, with the biggest smile plastered to his face. He knew Connor would love that. Connor endlessly complained about how he hated how everyone always said he was just wonderful. Connor had always thought the idea was ridiculous, that everyone could be so enamored with him when Connor himself thought he had the most stilted and awkward personality ever. Connor had been silently begging for years for someone to say just the opposite. So, for Connor’s sake, Mitch did. 

He burst out laughing again. 

“No, no. Obviously I’m joking. Con’s a great guy. Obviously. Leafs are lucky to have him,” he said, even as the words burned his throat. “He was actually over here earlier tonight and I was giving him some pointers on his game,” Mitch said, winking at the camera. No one needed to know Mitch was referring to Connor’s _dating_ game. 

Mitch read off some more questions, and answered them to the best of his ability. A lot of them were easy things like where Mitch liked to eat around the city or who he thought was going to finish first in the league in points. Mitch had gotten into the rhythm of it, and was more than feeling the wine, which was probably why what happened next happened at all. 

“Who’s the best sports follow on twitter?” Mitch read the question aloud. The answer was easy. It was obvious. So, without a second thought, Mitch answered honestly. 

“Best follow on sports twitter has got to be Auston Matthews,” Mitch said with confidence. And, because he could never shut up, he started rambling on. “I was actually listening to the most recent Boston Bros podcast earlier. You know? The podcast he does with Freddie Andersen? And it was fucking hilarious. They were talking about cotton candy shoes or some shit, and well, I swear, if you haven't given Auston a follow yet, you should.”

Mitch attempted to take another sip of wine before realizing the bottle was empty. Huh. He put the bottle aside with a laugh before he continued. “Only bad thing about him is that he’s a Bruins fan. I know,” Mitch commiserated with his viewers, tossing exaggerated puppy dog eyes their way. 

“I know, guys. It’s horrible. But, his looks more than make up for it. I’m not joking, this man is devastatingly gorgeous. You should give his insta a follow too,” Mitch suggested before his alcohol clouded brain cleared for a moment. 

_Devastatingly gorgeous._

Had he really just said that out loud? Oh no. No no no no no. 

Fuck. 

Drunk as Mitch was, he wasn’t drunk enough to not realize he’d made a mistake. 

An awkward laugh erupted from Mitch as his blush grew not only from the alcohol but from his embarrassment. Scratching the back of his neck, Mitch tried to gain some semblance of control over himself. 

“I 100% shouldn't have just said that,” Mitch said, forcing out another small laugh. Especially if he wanted anyone to take him seriously in the sports media scene. 

“Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath. Mitch shook his head, trying to find his way out of this, but the alcohol in his blood made that seemingly impossible. With as much grace as a drunk could muster, Mitch said, “Umm yeah, let’s just, let’s just act like I didn’t say that.” 

Mitch nodded to himself in confirmation. Yes, let's just forget he said anything at all. 

“And hey! I better not see that on twitter later!” Mitch added. With as much faux confidence that Mitch could muster, he smiled at the camera before asking, “So, what’s the next question?” 

Hours later when Mitch stumbled to bed that night, with his past forgotten and his stream just an incoherent blur, Mitch dreamed of ice beneath his feet and a cup raised between his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch wakes up with a headache, thousands of notifications, and a whole lot of regret.

“Fuck.” Mitch groaned as the vibrations of an incoming text woke him up. He haphazardly slapped at the night stand with unopened eyes but found no success.

Where the fuck was his phone?

Mitch groaned again, the simplest task seemed impossible right now. His head was pounding. He put a hand over his already closed eyes and tried to remember what happened last night, but his mind was foggy, fuzzy, and straight fucked right now.

Mitch shook his head, trying to clear it, but that only made it hurt worse.

Fuck.

He thought he was over mornings like this. He thought he was over all the bullshit from the past. He thought he was over trying to drink away his problems.

God, his head was killing him. 

Pissed at himself and last night’s regrettable (and seemingly forgettable?) choices, Mitch forced his eyes open. He didn’t want to reward his bad behavior. He needed to get up and face the day. Take some meds, drink some water, and try to be a functioning adult. If only he could find his phone…

He looked over at the nightstand to find that it really wasn’t there. Huh. Then he looked over the side of the bed to the floor, but it hadn’t fallen off the nightstand either.

Where would drunk Mitch put his phone? Mitch wondered. Before he could investigate further, another vibration rippled through the sheets.

_Ohh._

He’d woken up from the feel of the vibrations, not the sound of it. Mitch fished around his covers and found his phone snug between two of his pillows. With his phone unable to recognize him in the dark —useless piece of shit — he then thumbed through his passcode to see the texts that had so rudely woken him up.

**McWhatever:** He said yes!!! To dinner!!

**McWhatever:** Leon I mean

Mitch dragged his eyes up toward the ceiling and back down again. Who else would Connor have possibly been talking about?

Mitch erased his ‘duh, who the fuck else would it be?’ before sending a more appropriate text. It wasn’t Connor’s fault Mitch was so fucking hungover. 

Well, Mitch didn’t _think_ it was Con’s fault, but he wasn’t sure. He was like 95% sure it wasn’t his fault though, so it was probably best to be the supportive bff right now rather than the shitty annoying one.

**Mitch:** Fuck yes dude! Does he know it’s a date?

Mitch thought it best he asked now. Knowing Connor, Leon definitely didn’t know it was a date, but Connor had surprised him last night by even asking in the first place, so Mitch didn’t want to rule anything out.

**McWhatever:** 🖕🏻

Mitch laughed; that answered his question.

**Mitch:** Baby steps, baby steps. You got this, Con. 

Connor sent another middle finger emoji that Mitch didn’t think was necessarily justified since he was trying to be _encouraging_ before getting another text from Connor.

**McWhatever:** Care to share what happened last night?

What happened last night? 

That was a good fucking question. 

Mitch tried to recall the events of the night before but they were still fuzzy. He remembered Connor scaring the shit out of him, and of course the bet that led to Connor asking Leon to dinner. But after that it was all kind of… blank. He faintly remembered getting on twitch, which wasn’t that surprising but…

**Mitch:** What *did* happen last night?

**Mitch:** I have like the worst hangover rn dude

**McWhatever:** DUDE

**McWhatever:** 😂 Drunk you is the worst

**McWhatever:** also like the best tho

Mitch huffed out an annoyed breath and laid back against his pillows. His head hurt too much to sit up right now. With one eye cracked open, he sent Connor a voice recording that said “Stop being annoying and tell me what happened already.”

Connor responded instantly.

**McWhatever:** Bro, check twitter. Looks like you kept up your side of the deal.

Deal?

What deal?

Wait, was he talking about…

**McWhatever:** I can’t believe you don’t remember doing that.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Drunk Mitch was always an unpredictable asshole. If drinking, twitter, and the agreement he’d made with Connor were all involved, Mitch knew he was in something deep. Before Mitch could begin to process, another text from Connor came in.

**McWhatever:** Let me know when you’ve recovered from… that. So we can debrief. Also- we need to have a serious discussion about your drinking Mitchy.

Mitch rolled his eyes at Connor’s SAT bullshit vocabulary and instantly dismissed his concern. Mitch had more than enough to worry about right now. He didn’t need to be thinking about his drinking, which he repeatedly told himself (and Connor!) was not a problem. 

He quickly typed out a reply before swiping over to twitter.

**Mitch:** Dad stop plz. Going to twitter now

The first thing Mitch saw when he opened up twitter was that his mentions were a mess. There were too many tweets to even begin to parse through them so Mitch went to his feed first instead.

The first tweet he saw was from Dylan.

**@Stromerrr17:** @mcdavid97 come get your man, he’s drunk. 

Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but a little worrisome because how the fuck did he know that? Him and Dylan were friends, not as close as Dyl and Con, but like friends still, but it would have been super fucking surprising if Dylan had hopped onto his stream last night seeing as the Hawks had been playing. So, how the fuck did he know that if he wasn’t watching the stream?

Mitch scrolled through his feed, which featured a shit ton of videos of him from his twitch stream clearly drunk as fuck playing NHL with a wine bottle —not a glass, like a full on bottle— in his hand.

Maybe Connor was right about wanting to address the drinking? Mitch shrugged the thought away though. He had more important things to focus on. 

Like finding incriminating (and most definitely intoxicating) videos of himself on twitter. Hopefully with subtitles. 

God, he couldn’t believe this was his life. He kind of wanted to die from the mortification alone but kept scrolling. 

Mitch needed to know what happened —what he said— but he just didn’t have the nerve to watch the video of himself yet. It would have been just like so much better if someone just explained it to him, Mitch thought. He very very much so wanted to be spared watching his own humiliation. 

So, he scrolled. Past the videos, past the laughing emojis, past the random irrelevant tweets that thankfully weren’t about him. (Yes, he knew everything wasn’t about him and blah, blah, blah but like at this point he didn’t mind getting truly humbled. He even welcomed the blessed tweet about the Leafs’ lines from morning skate.) 

He scrolled and scrolled and scrolled hoping one of those leaf fan accounts with some name like @connnn97leaf4ever would fucking explain it to him in a thread with the video or fucking put up some captions but before he could find that he stumbled on to something so much worse.

So

much

worse. 

**@austonm:** Hmm… Anything interesting happen last night?

Mitch, with his unoccupied hand covering his chapped to hell lips, read in horror as he saw the tweets Auston had added to the thread.

**@austonm:** 👀👀👀

Mitch didn’t think it was possible at this point, but it somehow got even worse. Whatever was worse than worse that’s basically where Mitch was at. Because the last tweet in the thread read—

**@austonm:** Devastatingly gorgeous, huh?

_Devastatingly gorgeous._

Mitch shot up out of bed, ready to make a break for it, before crumbling back into his pillows. If this was a fight or flight moment, and Mitch thought it very much had to be, then he’d chosen the third option— complete and total acceptance of defeat. No fight. No flight. Just laying back and accepting it. He didn’t need to watch a video or have Connor explain to him what had happened. 

Mitch knew without a doubt Auston was tweeting about him because all of a sudden everything was rushing back.

_Best follow on sports twitter has got to be Auston Matthews._

_Only bad thing about him is that he’s a Bruins fan. I know. I know, guys. It’s horrible. But, his looks more than make up for it._

Mitch pressed his palms against closed eyes and cursed the Mitch of last night for making such a fucking stupid decision. 

_I’m not joking, this man is devastatingly gorgeous._   


He couldn’t even enjoy Auston Matthews knowing about his existence because he was so humiliated. Why couldn’t he have slid into Auston’s DMs like a normal love struck fan? Why did he have to announce it on twitch? Which Mitch obviously had done, if Auston was tweeting _that._

_You should give his insta a follow too._

Mitch thumbed out of the thread and scrolled up to one of the videos of his stream. It was shorter than a power play, the clip, but he felt like he was locked in the box, on the edge of the bench, ready to run out the second time expired. 

_Umm yeah, let’s just, let’s just act like I didn’t say that._

it was enough to cause some serious damage.

_And hey! I better not see that on twitter later!_

If only he had been so lucky. 

Mitch was torn between being infuriated and proud of his drunk self. He decided on a lot of the former and a little of the latter and decided to plow on through his feed.

After seeing more than a few tweets that actually came to Mitch’s aid saying that Auston should give him a chance (despite his obvious drunk desperation) and finding a very well done fan cam of the two of them, Mitch was feeling a little bit better. He even had enough courage to see if Freddie had said anything about all of this. Freddie usually wasn’t very active on social media, but he used it —mostly to make fun of Auston— but he used it.

Which is exactly why Mitch needed to check Fred’s feed.

If Fred had tweeted about it, then this whole situation was actually a Big Deal, not just to Mitch but like everyone. Not like _everyone_ everyone but like sports twitter people everyone. Or really hockey sports twitter people but whatever. A Big Deal to people that weren’t just Mitch. 

Mitch found one tweet there, posted about an hour ago, but it didn’t make any sense.

**@f_andersen:** @austonm Smooth matty (sarcasm)

Why would Freddie be saying that about Auston? Mitch was the one who was being decidedly uncool. Confused, he scrolled up to see the tweet Freddie had been replying to.

Mitch dropped his phone and almost (like most definitely) dropped dead when he saw it. 

The tweet. 

Auston’s tweet.

That Fred was replying to. 

Because the tweet wasn’t one that Mitch had seen before. It hadn’t been in the three tweet thread Mitch had read earlier. It must have been tweeted after it and it was

so 

much 

better.

**@austonm:** .@mmarner16 I’d love to have you on the pod, let's set something up! My DMs are open.

And below that.

**@austonm:** Come check out a Boston game without the leafs clouding your judgment. Maybe I’ll convert you to the B’s while you're here. 

Mitch picked up his fallen phone and proceeded to read the tweets over and over and over not believing his eyes.

Auston wanted _him_ on the PODCAST? That was like Mitch’s number one fantasy. Okay, his number one fantasy not involving anything like sex related but like, really high up there. But it was an unwritten —unsaid?— rule that they didn’t have guests on their podcast. They’d tried it early on but hadn’t liked it and, well, hadn’t done it for probably years. 

But, Auston wanted him on the podcast. The podcast Mitch has been listening to forever and the podcast that doesn’t do guests and the podcast that was co-hosted by one of the hottest dudes Mitch had ever seen. 

And he also, somehow, wanted Mitch to just hop on a plane to Boston and come see a Bruins’ game with him. Like a date. Like a bro date or just like two hockey loving dudes do but like in his mind a date. Auston had asked him to a BRUINS GAME. Mitch couldn’t even let his hatred for the B’s tamper with his excitement. He was literally shaking with it. 

Just, holy fuck. 

With shaky hands he tweeted back.

**@mmarner16:** Hmm… Anything interesting happen last night?

Mitch laughed to himself, he could be really fucking funny if he could say so himself sometimes. 

**@mmarner16:** *checks mentions*

**@mmarner16:** *hyperventilates*

**@mmarner16:** .@austonm I’ll see if I can squeeze you into my busy schedule. 👀🥵

Before Mitch had even finished tweeting, his notifications had started popping off again. 

Mitch ran a hand through his long hair, trying to settle his bed head and his nerves before he started spiraling into some seriously unhealthy thoughts.

What if Auston had been joking about having him on?

What if Auston thinks Mitch is a joke? 

Mitch didn’t want to be some laugh that the Boston Bros had on their next podcast. Or, at least, he didn’t want there to be a segment on it if Mitch himself wasn’t there and included. 

Mitch had had enough of humiliation and disappointment on a national level. He had thicker skin now, of course, but he wasn’t gearing up for a repeat performance. If all of this was just some laugh Auston and Freddie were having at Mitch’s expense, he didn’t know if he’d ever recover. 

So, to try to save himself from the disappointment and rejection he was sure was coming, he decided to bite the bullet and do it himself first. Besides, he was sure Auston was a nice guy. Fred too. They’d never purposely do anything to upset or humiliate someone. 

Mitch went to Auston’s twitter and saw that his DMs really were open, as he’d gone ahead and followed Mitch. (Mitch, obviously was already following Auston.) He tapped the little envelope icon that signaled a DM and started typing. 

**@mmarner16:** Hey, Auston. By now you’ve probably seen the clip from my twitch stream last night if your tweets are any indication. I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry about that and def didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything. I might have been on the wrong side of tipsy and that leads to me being a little more open and honest than is probably needed for the stream. I think my viewers like that side of me a little too much lmao since that’s when they get all the good content. 

But, anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for being so cool about it. I really am a huge fan of the podcast, if you hadn’t caught on to that yet, but you definitely don’t have to have me on though. I’d love to obvi but I def don’t want you to feel pressured in any way to have me on. 

Mitch reread it five times before hitting send. He was too scared to even mention the going to a Bruins game together part. 

Was it too informal? 

Should he not have said anything at all? 

He kind of felt like he had to since Auston had told him his DMs were open and fucking invited him to Boston, but again, he wasn’t sure if Auston was joking. Which is why he sent the message in the first place so he could save face but…

Before Mitch could spiral any longer, his phone chirped with an incoming DM.

**@austonm:** Already trying to get out of it? That scared of the idea of seeing a boston game and actually enjoying it? 

Mitch laughed at the weak chirp, unsure if it was flirty or Mitch was just seeing what he wanted to see. Before Mitch could respond, to the first message, another one came in. 

**@austonm:** Also- don’t sweat it dude. You just gave us a ton of free exposure. 

Which kind of made his heart sink. Mitch didn’t want some pity invite. That was worse than not being invited at all. He’d had his fair share of pity. It was the last thing Mitch wanted. 

He wasn’t sure how to respond now, since the two messages seemed so different from one another. The first one was teasing while the second one almost seemed dismissive to him. Mitch didn’t know how to proceed. 

Auston must have sensed his hesitation, because he sent two more messages Mitch’s way. Auston had just messaged him four times in a row with no response, Mitch felt like he was kind of the king of the universe; he was so high off the idea. 

**@austonm:** Checked the leafs schedule, and they’re going on another road trip next week. Want to come down next Monday? We could record then and go to the game on tuesday against the flyers? 

**@austonm:** I mean, if you want to. Up to you. We’ll pay of course since it’s for the podcast and all. 

Mitch didn’t spare a second to think about if this whole thing was crazy or not. Hell, his whole life up until now had been pretty fucking crazy, why change that now?

**@mmarner16:** Def not scared, flyers are gonna kick their ass. I’m down for Monday, let’s do it! Text me with the details, I’m 416-000-1634. 

He thought that sounded pretty fucking chill, if he did say so himself. 

Auston liked the message which was like a shot of adrenaline straight to his system, and he went back to one of his own tweets to update his fans. Adding to the tweet about his busy schedule, Mitch tweeted—

**@mmarner16:** Apparently I’m going to BOS next week 👀 See you then @austonm and @f_andersen. 😎

Auston immediately retweeted it with no additional caption and Mitch’s heart soared. He was in so fucknig deep already. 

Swiping out of twitter and going back to his texts with Connor, he sent—

**Mitch:** Come over tonight so we can “debrief” or whatever the fuck!!! I have not recovered like at all not one bit but might be once you get here. I need your help planning my trip to BOSTON TO MEET AUSTON!!!!!!!!! Also, we need to seriously plan out this dinner with Leon. You can not go to dinner wearing some leafs hoodie. I absolutely forbid it. FORBID IT. 

**Mitch:** also- bring food plz

**Mitch:** not SALAD

**Mitch:** also can you be here at like 7 since that’s when the flyers game is on? We need to research!!!!!!!! 

Like the self important asshole he was, Connor only liked Mitch’s last message in response. UGH. He needed Connor’s help right now! He was in crisis!

**Mitch:** Asshole

Connor laugh reacted to the message instantly and all Mitch could do was laugh. He knew Connor’d be here tonight and that was enough for now. 

Mitch finally got out of bed then, and was making his way over to his tub —he needed a nice bath right now, okay?— when he got another text. 

Finally he response, Mitch thought before opening up the text. Connor could never really ignore Mitch. But when Mitch opened up the text, he was surprised at what he saw. Because it wasn’t a text from Connor, but a text from an unknown number, with what Mitch assumed was a Boston area code. 

**Unknown:** Boston plays tonight, might want to catch a game before you see them next week. 

Mitch smirked before sending out his text. 

**Mitch:** No need. I know they suck. Flyers play at 7 tho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has kind of been the week from hell, so I am so glad I actually get to post and share this next chapter with you. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments : )


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